


Nakanaide (Don't Cry)

by aegicheezu



Category: Japanese Mythology, Onmyouji | The Yin-Yang Master (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Japanese Character(s), Japanese Culture, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Magic, Mitsumushi talks in this one!, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon, References to Canon, Requited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 12:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15243687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegicheezu/pseuds/aegicheezu
Summary: After the battle with Genkaku, Siemei and Hiromasa have returned - relatively - safely from Ame no Murakomo; but Seimei remains unconscious. Hiromasa waits patiently, day after day for Seimei to awaken. While he waits, and watches, he begins to think about their relationship. Just what are they to each other?





	Nakanaide (Don't Cry)

The cold November air seeped into Hiromasa’s robes and made his entire body shiver; gently laying the still-sleeping Seimei down on the soft mats in his room, he cursed the gods. _How could you have let him suffer like this? After everything he has done to protect those around him, and the capital…_ He looked angrily up at the moon and tried not to cry. Mitsumushi helped Hiromasa carefully undress him so that he could be at least a little more comfortable, and slipped some loose, warm bedclothes on his limp and heavy body. Hiromasa was frozen in place and would not move from his spot by Seimei’s head; his eyes fixed on Seimei’s, unopened.

“Hiromasa-sama must try to rest,” Mitsumushi pleaded, seeing how distressed he was. “I can stay awake and watch.”

“No,” Hiromasa replied firmly, tone a little harsher than he’d intended. “No,” he repeated, softer. “I’m sorry, Mitsumushi. Please… leave us. I will stay with him."

“As you wish,” Mitsumushi nodded, her eyes betraying concern for them both. She disappeared and then reemerged a few moments later with some tea for Hiromasa, who thanked her before she turned back into a butterfly and left him to watch over Seimei.

“Seimei…” Hiromasa shook his head. “What do I do…? I’m not magic like you…” he at last let his tears fall, staring up at the night sky. The moon shone down, full and white, almost mocking him with its brilliance. _Please come back to me._

*

Morning had at once come too quickly, and not fast enough; Hiromasa sat by Seimei’s head, arms crossed and head drooped, snoring - he had tried his best to stay up through the night, but the journey from heaven’s gates had completely drained him of whatever energy he’d had. Mitsumushi gently woke him by placing a pot of fragrant tea in front of him; the smell of jasmine helped bring him from his sleep. Blinking awake, he looked down at the tea and then around to Mitsumushi, who, though smiling, was still concerned about the pair of men. 

“Thank you,” Hiromasa shook his head in an effort to wake up. “You did not have to…” he looked down at Seimei.

“Seimei-sama would never forgive me if I did not look after you properly,” she replied in her usual, bright tone. “So please tell me if you need anything. I want to help Hiromasa-sama bring Seimei-sama back.”

“Bring him back…?” Hiromasa repeated softly. “Mitsumushi, I am not magic,” his eyes turned downcast, and he sighed. “What can I do, someone who has no powers at all?”

Mitsumushi smiled and shook her head knowingly. “We are all magic, Hiromasa-sama,” she replied. “I am certain Seimei-sama feels your presence. He will return soon, if you are by his side.” She knelt down beside the sleeping man and examined his face. “I will go and collect some useful herbs,” she said at last, her tone sure and deliberate. She transformed into a butterfly and vanished into thin air. Hiromasa tried to search the sky for her but gave up after a moment. He turned his attentions back to Seimei and sighed again. _Are we really all a little magic, Seimei? Is that true?_

*

Mitsumushi had not yet returned, but the sun had begun to dip in the sky. By now, Hiromasa had changed from his heavy, formal court robes into lighter ones and had unpinned his hair, having grown tired of keeping up his stuffy court appearance now that he was outside the capital, away from everything. _Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you in informal clothes, have I, Seimei?_ Hiromasa allowed himself a playful thought. He combed his fingers through Seimei’s thick black hair and noted the faintest traces of his perfume still clinging to the strands. _What flower is that?_ He wondered. He breathed in deeply.

“There now, isn’t that better?” he whispered, a little smile on his lips despite everything. He knew he would not get a reply, but it felt nice to speak aloud after so long only thinking to himself. Hiromasa continued running his hands through Seimei’s hair, more to calm his own spirit than to help Seimei - _he can’t feel me doing this, can he?_ \- he gently propped Seimei’s head onto his lap, as he had done at the Rock Gate of Heaven. Unthinkingly, he began to stroke his cheek. _How handsome you are, like this,_ he thought. _I suppose it would have been too intimate, if I just looked at you, like I’m doing now… what on earth would you think of me?_ Hiromasa watched Seimei sleep a moment, almost studying the way his eyelashes cast a little shadow on his pale cheeks. _Yes,_ he thought, nodding to himself, _you do have a face like a fox. But you’re so pretty, too…_ Hiromasa sighed.

Mitsumushi returned a few hours later; she quietly entered Seimei’s room, having brewed some tea for Hiromasa only to find him already asleep, with Seimei’s head in his lap and his arms circled protectively around him. 

She smiled.

*

The following morning, Hiromasa’s spirits seemed a little lighter than they had the previous day; it seemed that he discovered that talking aloud to Seimei as though he were awake helped the time pass; and he wondered - he hoped - that his voice might call out to Seimei’s spirit and bring him back. Sitting back on his hands, legs crossed, he sighed and stared up at the wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling above him. “Seimei, how many years have we known each other, now?” he asked, and began to count, remembering aloud the day he’d seen Seimei’s magic firsthand - when he’d sliced the transformed Mitsumushi in two with a leaf, at the behest of the Ministers.

“But I’d met you once or twice informally, before that day,” he replied to himself, filling the air with words. “I remember, one summer, it was so very hot… the Ministers were begging you to bring some rain, to cool the air. You insisted that it was not within your power to control the weather, but they would not listen! I remember thinking how rudely they treated you, insisting that your powers were not so great after all. How could they speak to such a revered Onmyoji in that way? Of course, I’d heard the stories about you. The great Abe no Seimei, son of a kitsune, with powers that rivalled a god’s… and so young, too.” he laughed a little at this, for he knew now that Seimei was an immortal being; and of course, since Aone had given her immortal life to Hiromasa when he himself lay dying, so too now was he. They would live a long time, side by side - if only Seimei could wake up. “Seimei,” he added slowly, softly. “What will I do for an eternity if I can’t share it with you?”

A thought struck him, then. “Seimei, when I lay dying in your arms… I never told you what it felt like, did I?” He rolled onto his side, then lay next to Seimei on his back, staring up at the ceiling again. “The arrow in my heart felt strange,” he began, closing his eyes and remembering. “I have never been pierced with a knife or cut by a sword; I’d never seen combat before. So being struck with the arrow… it hurt. I am not used to pain,” he smiled a little. “I grew up in the courts, and was always very sheltered, I suppose. I lay there for what seemed like hours and hours, just feeling my body grow cold; I could not move. Then, I heard you running towards me… I wanted to call out, ‘here I am!’ but I could not speak. I was so frightened, Seimei. I did not want to die, to leave you… hearing you crying out to me, to try and keep me alive, it broke my heart.” Hiromasa felt tears behind his eyes and let them fall. “Seeing you cry for me,” he composed himself, wiping his own tears from his face, “seeing you cry for me that day made me realize just how very precious you were to me.” He sighed. “Oh, Seimei,” he turned onto his side to look at Seimei. “I should have told you then. I should have told you everything. I did not know… I did not think a day like this would ever come.” He began to cry again, silent tears falling onto the tatami mat beneath his head. “Please, Seimei,” his voice was soft, “please wake up.”

*

Mitsumushi was able at last to convince Hiromasa to eat something - she prepared some fresh fish and rice for them both; and, though he refused to leave Seimei’s side, he at least agreed to eat.

“Mitsumushi,” Hiromasa asked after a while, sipping his tea. “Tell me something sweet about Seimei.”

“Hiromasa-sama?” Mitsumushi questioned, head cocked to one side.

Hiromasa smiled, clarifying what he meant. “Tell me a story that he’d never tell me himself,” he set down his cup. “Tell me about when he was young.” He looked down lovingly at the still-sleeping Seimei and smoothed his hair, brushing the long strands from his face where the gentle wind had moved them. “You have been by his side longer than I.”

Mitsumushi nodded, at last understanding. “Seimei-sama has always been a very private person,” she explained, pausing to think. “But before he was a court Onmyoji, things were a little different.” She sat back on her hands and smiled at the memory that came to her. “One summer evening, I was flitting around his head as he was charting the stars for his divination records, and he began to sing.”

“Really?” Hiromasa’s eyes widened in delight. “I cannot imagine it!” he laughed a little. “What did he sing?”

“An ancient song, probably one that his mother taught him before she died,” Mitsumushi replied. “Seimei-sama has a lovely voice,” she smiled softly. “Seimei-sama has a lovely voice.” Mitsumushi’s eyes turned downcast and her shoulders hunched a little, as if she was ashamed.

Hiromasa reached out and squeezed her hand - they were beyond displays of shyness and propriety now, anyway - “Don’t be sad, Mitsumushi,” he tried to comfort her. “Seimei will come back to us.” He looked longingly at the sleeping man’s calm face, unmoving. “He must.”

“Seimei-sama will surely come back,” Mitsumushi nodded her head vigorously, as if trying to convince herself of it. “Seimei-sama would never leave you. He loves you too much to abandon you.”

“Mitsumushi?” Hiromasa questioned.

“Doesn’t Hiromasa-sama know?” Mitsumushi asked innocently. “Surely, Seimei-sama has made his feelings clear.” She seemed confused by Hiromasa’s obliviousness. Seeing his still-confused face, she continued. “Seimei-sama was so lonely before he met you, Hiromasa-sama.”

“He was?” Hiromasa pressed. “He’d never really told me about his life, or what things were like before our meeting…” he shook his head. “I have never thought to look at him in that way…” in that moment, he did not seem able to collect his thoughts. _Seimei… looks at me… as a man…?_ He blinked the thought away, unsure of how to process it.

“Of course, Hiromasa-sama must love him too!” Mitsumushi smiled, oblivious to his inner monologue. “Otherwise, you would not have decided to go to Ame no Murakomo with him. You both could have died, he told you so. But you still went.” She smiled knowingly. “You both risked your lives to be with the other. That’s love, of course it is.” She nodded, satisfied with her explanation.

Hiromasa smiled a little at the memory. “That’s true, isn’t it…” he looked again at Seimei’s sleeping form and sighed, stroking the unconscious man’s long hair. “Mitsumushi, I did not know he felt that way… could one person really be so blind?” he asked, a lump in his throat. “What if he never wakes?”

Mitsumushi shook her head. “He will, Hiromasa-sama,” she stood to give him some privacy with the sleeping man. “When you lay dying in his arms, Seimei-sama said, ‘I would move heaven and earth to ensure that he wakes up,’ through his tears. I’m certain he is trying hard to return to you, even now.” She nodded her head and smiled reassuringly before turning back into a butterfly and flying away into the night, leaving Hiromasa alone to think about their conversation.

*

Trying to sleep, Hiromasa lay flat on his back next to Seimei, watching the smooth and steady rise-and-fall of his chest under the winter quilt. His eyes ran from the sleeping man’s long lashes down past his straight nose and the gentle curve of his full lips, and he found himself wondering just what it might feel like to be kissed by him. _How could I not have known your true feelings, Seimei? After all this time, you’ve kept your heart closed off to me… I would have quickly returned those feelings, if only I knew…_ He felt like crying. _What if you never wake up? How long is eternity?_ Hiromasa sat up and gently coaxed the sleeping Seimei’s head onto his lap so that he could soothe his own spirit by gently running his hands through his hair and caressing his cheeks.

“Seimei, what do I do…?” he said aloud softly. “I can’t face this immortal life alone without you… not now, when I know your heart’s true feelings…” he shook his head, a familiar lump rising in his throat threatening tears; he let them fall. It felt as though he were mourning the death of a love he had not even begun to live; and this realization hurt his soul. “Seimei, you must know…” he tried to compose himself long enough to say the words he’d been carrying in his heart for what seemed like many years. “You must know how I feel about you, how I truly feel about you… don’t you see everything in the stars?” he laughed a little. “You always could seem to tell what I was about to say before it even crossed my own mind. You’re the Head Onmyoji now, after all…” he propped Seimei up on his knee and bent his head so he was only inches away from the sleeping man’s face that he held in his hands. “Am I never again going to see these beautiful eyes of yours open, and crinkle in laughter?” He began to weep in earnest, now. The thought of never hearing Seimei’s deep, melodic laugh again made his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. _Am I going to live an eternity without ever having the joy of kissing those pretty, soft lips of yours?_ He thought, desperately. “Seimei… I do not know when I started loving you…” he at last said it out loud, and suddenly everything became clear to him. “I do not know when I started loving you,” he repeated. “But I do love you, Seimei… of course I do. More than anything in this world, or the next. Please, come back…” he pressed their foreheads together. “Please, come back… and rest in the arms of a man that loves you, who so desperately loves you…” he hesitated a little before pressing the softest of kisses on Seimei’s forehead. “Oh, Seimei…” he sighed. “What a fool I have been… we have wasted so much time…” Hiromasa remembered the countless long nights spent in each other’s company, laughing and telling stories; he recalled the way Seimei used to look at him, eyes sparkling, his mouth curled into a little crooked smile. _Did you love me then, when I chased after Tsukehime? Did you watch me mourn her? How must that have made you feel, to watch me hopelessly fall for these royal women? I am sorry, Seimei… I have been too cruel. How could I not have known my own heart?_ He shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the memories and rid himself of the pain they now caused him.

Sighing heavily, he gently laid Seimei down flat on his back again, taking great care of his head. He lay himself down next to him, on his side, and stroked the sleeping man’s hair. “Please forgive me, Seimei,” Hiromasa said softly, tears still falling. “Please forgive this foolish man in front of you…” he held on to the sleeping figure tightly, until at last, sleep blessedly came to him, too.

*

Two more days came and went, and Hiromasa did not leave Seimei’s side. Mitsumushi tried and failed to get him to eat or drink anything more than a few mouthfuls of rice or tea; while she flitted around the bare trees of their garden, a thought struck her and she immediately transformed back into her human self, crying out excitedly. “Hiromasa-sama! Hiromasa-sama! I have an idea!” she ran into Seimei’s room and was practically vibrating with joy at her plan.

“Mitsumushi, what on earth…?” Hiromasa stood up, surprised by her energy. She unashamedly began to pat down Hiromasa’s frame, obviously looking for something. “Hey! What---” Hiromasa flinched away from her touch. “What are you looking for?”

“Your flute, Hiromasa-sama!” Mitsumushi replied, exasperated at being unable to find it in the folds of Hiromasa’s robe. “You must play your flute for him!”

The same thought that must have struck Mitsumushi at last came to Hiromasa, and he shared her excited look. “It’s with my court robes!” He remembered, running off to find it. _Will this work?_ He wondered as he tore through his clothes to find it. _Please work…_ Hiromasa knew that his flute had been useful many times before; sending Tsukehime to heaven with a human heart, placating Susa, even keeping the Rock Gates of Heaven opened long enough for Seimei to… he shut his eyes and shook his head. That last memory hurt his heart to remember it. _Perhaps this time, my flute will help you,_ he prayed. He sat back down by Seimei and said a prayer before bringing the flute to his lips. Mitsumushi stood by, wringing her hands, hoping that her hunch would be correct. Hiromasa played slowly at first, almost as though he were not used to the instrument. As he played, he kept repeating the same prayer. _Come back, Seimei. Come back and let my arms encircle you and keep you safe. Come back._ He played for what seemed like hours and hours; he did not want to stop. At last, Mitsumushi noticed a change in Seimei and cried out, “Hiromasa-sama!” interrupting his melody. Hiromasa dropped his flute and flung himself over to where Seimei lay.

“Seimei! Seimei!” Hiromasa called to him, hoping that his voice might guide him to return. His wishes seemed to be granted; Seimei’s eyelids fluttered open gently, like an infant’s first attempt to see the world. He turned his head to face Hiromasa, who was about to burst into tears. Hiromasa bent down and took Seimei’s hand, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. “Seimei, are you… have you come back…?” he asked, hopeful. Seimei opened his mouth to speak, but no sound fell from his lips. He seemed to motion with his eyes that he wanted to be sat up; Hiromasa obliged and coaxed his head onto his lap. “Seimei…” Hiromasa could not help but smile. _My flute reached you, in heaven…?_

“Hiromasa…” Seimei’s voice was raspy and weak from disuse, but he managed a smile. Hiromasa thought his heart might leap from his mouth at the sight of Seimei smiling up at him like that. Seimei took hold of one of Hiromasa’s hands, and squeezed gently; he raised his other hand so that he could gently touch Hiromasa’s cheek. Resting his fingers against Hiromasa’s warm skin, he cradled the other man’s face in his hands and sighed. “Hiromasa… my handsome court noble… please always stay by my side…” he said at last, voice a little surer. “I am sorry to have worried you so.”

“Seimei, I must tell you…” Hiromasa prepared himself to confess his feelings properly, now that Seimei was awake. He took a deep breath. “I must tell you how very deeply I love you,” feeling bold, he kissed Seimei’s hand against his face. “I am so relieved that you have come back to me.”

Seimei’s little smile widened, and his eyes grew soft and loving as they stared up at the other man. “My Hiromasa,” he replied, twirling a loose piece of Hiromasa’s hair in his fingers. “You saved me, all on your own… I am proud of you.” He gently pulled on Hiromasa’s hair, beckoning him lower his head. He himself tilted his face upwards, indicating exactly what he wanted. Hiromasa smiled, and closed the space between their lips with a kiss. Seimei’s lips against his were soft; he kissed him slowly, deliberately – making up for the time lost by not having confessed their feelings so much sooner. When at last they broke apart, Hiromasa helped Seimei sit up properly and he coaxed the other man’s head onto his shoulder, holding his hand in his lap.

“Minamoto no Hiromasa,” Seimei exhaled, squeezing Hiromasa’s hand in his. “I love you more than anything in this world, or the next.” He rolled his head and turned his gaze upward to meet Hiromasa’s. “I am sorry for not telling you sooner.” He turned Hiromasa’s hand in his own. “I am sorry to have made you weep for me.”

Hiromasa smiled, shaking his head. “We have eternity to make up for the time we have lost,” he realized aloud. “I will never leave your side.”

Mitsumushi looked on, tears in her eyes. “Seimei-sama and Hiromasa-sama can be happy together at last,” she sing-songed. “I am glad.” She nodded, satisfied with what had come to pass. Picking up Hiromasa’s flute and laying it carefully on the nearby writing desk, she turned back into a butterfly and flew into her little brocade cage.

After a moment of contented quiet, Hiromasa said at last, “You know, Seimei, it was actually Mitsumushi’s idea to have me play the flute and wake you.”

Seimei laughed gently. “I told you, that flute of yours is magic,” he grinned and kissed Hiromasa’s shoulder. “When I heard that familiar melody echoing in my heart, I knew it was you trying to call my spirit back. It was irresistible.” Seimei pressed a soft kiss to Hiromasa’s neck. “I did wonder… if I would be trapped there,” he admitted, voice low, as if he didn’t want to say the words. “I was terrified that if I stayed there any longer, I would not be able to come home… to you.” A tear rolled down Seimei’s pale cheek.

Hiromasa took Seimei’s chin in his hand and kissed him gently, slowly. “But here you are,” he replied, wiping Seimei’s face. “No more tears, Seimei.” He kissed him again. “I will not have the man I love endure any more sadness.”

“Say it again, Hiromasa,” Seimei smiled against Hiromasa’s lips. “Say you love me, again.”

Hiromasa kissed him, and, feeling bold, gently bit at the other man’s lip. “Abe no Seimei, I love you.”

The full moon shone overhead, watching protectively over the pair. Seimei had a playful thought. “Tonight,” he said, pointing at the moon, “Oh, my beloved, I will give you the moon.”

Hiromasa grinned. “I accept your gift of the moon, Seimei,” he gently kissed the other man’s neck. “But now, what’s left for me to give you?”

Seimei thought a moment and took Hiromasa’s face in his hands to kiss him, parting the other man’s waiting lips with his gentle tongue. “Give me all of you, Hiromasa,” Seimei breathed, “and say you’ll be mine forever.”

“I swear it,” Hiromasa replied, kissing Seimei back and hoping that his love could be felt through his lips. “Forever.”

The night birds sang softly, as though their melodies were blessing for them both.


End file.
